I have this on going, poke fun at the neighbors (Amish) as to who is more spoiled. The neighbors around here are starting to use tractors, go figure. I have this older gelding that I use to clean the dairy barn. I harness him as he stands untied in the horse barn about 5-600 feet from the dairy barn. Hanging the lines over the hames, I speak to him and he walks to the dairy barn, threw the open door, down behind the cows to the other end, turns around, and stands waiting for me to hook him to the slide I clean the gutters out with.
When I get a spreader full I go and spread. I rarely tie him while I'm gone for maybe 20 minutes or so.
When I'm done, I unhook him, speak to him, and he walks back to the horse barn by himself to be unharnessed.
After I unharness him I say OK get a drink. He walks to the water tank, gets a drink. Then walks back into his stall.
Gee whiz, what do I do when he gets to old and I have to replace him?

My third team was like that (although I always tied them while loading the manure spreader and such). Have spent the rest of my life trying to train another team half as good as they were.

Count yourself as blessed. Most of us dream about horses like that.

My Dad tells a story about a horse his father had, back in the 30's. My grandfather would ride the horse to the train station every day to catch it for work. He would wrap the reins around the saddle horn and the horse would go straight back home every day and wait in the yard for my Dad or his older brother to come unsaddle it. Dad says that while every other horse they owned was subject to sale or trade, this one was with his Dad until he died.

A great blessing,give many thanks!Probably one out of twenty like that.

My Grandfather always told me that a man would have the kind of horse, dog and wife he deserved. I didn't completely understand it when I was younger but I do understand what he meant now.

I used to buy hogs for a living out to Bloomfield, Iowa. I dealt a lot with the Amish there, and I learned then that there was a real difference in the level of horsemanship even in the Amish. The best drafts I ever seen were trained by the Lambright family. Their hog barn was 1/2 mile off of the blacktop, one brother would load a wagon load of fat hogs out of the barn and send the team out to the road with the hogs and another brother would back the wagon up to a waiting trailer and we would unload the hogs and he would send them back to the barn for another load and so on. The lines were tied to the front of the wagon and they would make trip after trip hauling sqealing hogs---and no one ever touched the lines they strictly operated by voice commands.........

I have a good team and they listen well,,,,,,,,but they are along way from being that good. Of course another thing my grandfather taught me was not to brag on my dog while we were still in the woods.

As long as I am remebering what he told me----He always said "Fat horses are deaf". You might not believe how many people do not understand that.

A friend of ours used to have a horse like that, many, many years ago. He always talks about "Sally" whenever we talk about this kind of stuff. When he and his father would skid logs, all it would take is one trip up the mountain and one trip down, the rest of the time one man would be up the mountain and the other at the bottom. Sally would go up and down all by herself. He said she was the same when working the garden. one pass in each direction and she'd just go until she was told to stop.

He said that he and his dad always regretted selling old Sally when they needed a new horse.

Nice to hear the stories told. I hope I don't come across as being prideful. I just would like people to know this type of horse is possible to have. The way I have found to get it done is to use the horse/horses daily. We don't hook on Sunday but most any other day they are used. The more you use them, the better they will become. Most wrecks are the cause of not using horses enough. They were not bred and developed to stand around and get fat.
The best one I've seen yet is a fellow having a team hooked to a hay elevator. He had the elevator cranked all the way up and backed next to the barn. Standing at the top of the elevator, the fellow was opening the hay mow door as the team stood unattended. Something I don't recommend.

They say you get a good horse, dog, and wife once a lifetime. Funny you don't know how good one is until it is gone.

I agree the good ones have the ability and then are used enough to get it out of them. How many have the ability and never reach their potential because of lack of use. My boys have a little grey team that gets nothing but better. The ponies are 5 and 6 now. I figure by the time the grandkids come those 2 little ponies will be great babysitters.
KM

this is something to crow about. It takes wet collars to make a good horse.

Spraying water on the collar does NOT count as wet collar time.

Now this is as close as you will ever get to the front porch without really being there . Tiff this is my favorite of all that I have read . Brought back memories of Dad and all the guys sitting on the front porch on a rainy day telling all of their stories . This one was Real Front Porch material . Keep it going .

Hope this keeps it going... My Dad was was born in Saskatchewan and his family moved to Toronto when he was a young boy. I think he said they drove across Canada in a Hupmobile my Grandfather converted specially to make the trip. Dad worked as a mounted policeman in the early 1960's and has a lot of horse stories. He tells a story about a milkman that had a heart attack and died while he was out on the route. The milkman used to take a few houses worth of supplies and send the horse on to stop at every couple of houses while he walked the milk from house to house. Apparently the horse was still out finishing the route with all the stops with the milkman in the wagon after he had passed away! I Really enjoy hearing the stories too.

I've got one more to add. Alan on the porch here probably knows the people I'm going to speak of.
My Dad and and another fellow have worked together on many projects over the years that I call this fellow Uncle Gene. Not my real Uncle but the whole family is close enough to ours that we may as well be related. Well, Uncle Gene and my Dad had rights to clear cut a swamp that ended up becoming a muck farm later on. Each were building barns, milk houses and machinery sheds. It was around the time most dairies went from cans to bulk milk (mid to late 60's). Another neighbor who was also cutting out of the swamp came with his young team of percherons. This is the same team that started my love for percherons as a young tad. Dad and Uncle Gene had a roadway made of fallen trees froze in going threw the swamp to use for skidding logs.
Well as you may be able to see in your minds eye. This team of fancy young percherons going by, down the frozen road way, and out of sight, passing Dad and Uncle Gene working. Next thing you know, the fellow is walking back, but without horses. Dad asks if anything's wrong. The fellow says the horses went passed the end of the roadway and up to their bellys in snow. Says he's going to get a shovel. Uncle Gene speaks up and says, "What are you gonna do, dig them out or bury them"?

My mom gave me a picture of my Dads oldest brother holding 2 big percherons in harness. you can tell the way they are just standing there they are broke. Asked Dad about them and he said he plowed with them horses when he was 7 and 8 years old. He said one day the coal mine went on strike and the boss man asked Grandpa to keep working the mule while they were off. Grandpa hitched that mule between them horses and left Dad to plow. A blowing rain came up and he said that onery old mule (his words) turned around and put his back to the wind right between them horses. He said here I was a little kid trying to get them horses and that mule untangled. He said ,"I'll never forget that."